


Tsubasa: Lovecraftian Chronicles- Lost to Time

by Within_Imagination



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: But not your average sickfic, F/M, Family Bonding, Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Monster(s), M/M, Mystery, Sickfic, Suspense, Thriller, bro-trip, cosmic horror, everything is not as it seems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Within_Imagination/pseuds/Within_Imagination
Summary: (Based in Tsubasa: World Chronicle) Syaoran had always tried to make good use of his archaeological abilities during their travels, but even he didn't realize just how useful they could be until he and his companions suddenly find themselves arriving in a world where they are trapped within an enormous structure. Sequestered from the outside, buried beneath mountains of snow, and surrounded by all the remnants of a long-abandoned civilization, the group must uncover what happened in this ancient structure, as well as the reason behind why only the ill and feverish Fai is able to read the ancient language etched into the stone...
Relationships: Fay D. Fluorite/Kurogane
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	1. Opening notes and warnings

** WARNING: **

The following story is rated T for “Teen” as it contains some strong language,

a few scenes of gore, elements of horror, and very brief mentions of suicide.

Please be advised in case any of these things happen to upset you.

** Notes: **

**1.** This story is a horror story, but there are **_NO_** jumpscares or anything that would make it seem ANYTHING like what horror has become in this day and age.

It is what I like to call “Quiet Horror.” It is more of a suspense story than anything else, and if you’ve ever read H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Shadow over Innsmouth” (which I _highly_ recommend; it’s right up there with “At the Mountains of Madness” as one of his best works), then you will know exactly the tone I am going for in this story.

Quiet suspense, thrilling moments, and a whole lot of mystery surrounding an ancient civilization—maybe I’ve read a little too much Lovecraft lately…

(PSA: Since I am recommending Lovecraft to you, please note that there are some stories you should _not_ read without knowing what you’re in for. He had a shockingly closed-off mind when it came to learning about other cultures, and some of his works get pretty offensive at times. He was amazing at setting a tone for his works, and at world-building and story-telling, but I very much acknowledge that his works are filled with discrimination that can be difficult to read. Please keep this in mind if you choose to pick up a book of his short stories. Thank you.)

Also, please note that the following story I have written for _Tsubasa: World Chronicle_ contains none of what was just mentioned in the previous paragraph. Only in tone and writing style is this story similar to Lovecraft's works.

**2.** Sakura is only briefly mentioned in this story. (Apologies, Sakura fans, but this is _Tsubasa: World Chronicle_ , after all!)

**3.** Mokona’s pronouns in this story are they/them. I believe that Tsubasa’s Mokona is female, but I don’t believe it has ever been overtly stated by CLAMP themselves. (Please, let me know if I’m wrong!)

**4.** Tsubasa Mokona refers to xxxHolic Mokona as “Other Mokona” in this story.

**5.** I switch between using and not using Japanese honorifics often at the end of names (this includes “–kun,” “-chan,” “–san,” etc). This is the same with Japanese and English words/phrases, such as interchanging “manjuu” with “pork bun” every once in a while.

I realize this is an inconsistent way of writing, but I have become fond of it over the years. It has simply become part of my writing style.

**6.** There is mention of the Tsubasa: World Chronicle storyline, but it is very brief and you do not have to have read the manga in order to understand it.

**7.** I love to use – and … in my writing, so you will be seeing a great deal of those.

**8.** Hopefully, this will be the first story in a collection of Tsubasa: Lovecraftian Chronicles, but it will take me quite a while to write each one.

**Thank you for taking the time to read over my notes and warnings.**

**I hope that you will enjoy my story.  
**


	2. Act I

Fai knew what was happening. He could sense it, even before the others. He didn’t warn them—couldn’t rather. It was all he could do simply to rise from the bed and don his clothing and shoes before the wispy tendrils of magic began to whirl their way around the room.

“The hell are you doing, manjuu?!” came a gruff cry from one room over.

“Mokona can’t help it!” cried another, higher-pitched voice. “It looks like our job must be done here!”

“Goddamn kids must have finally broken it off then, damn it! Don’t you have any control over the way this works?!”

_Ah, yes, that’s right,_ Fai recalled. _That’s what they were doing in this world._

When they’d first arrived, it had been in the midst of a terrible feud between families. A wrecked engagement, heartbroken parents, children trying to do the right thing even if it cost them their happiness—that sort of thing. With a bit of sleuthing, Syaoran had been able to uncover that the reason behind everything was, in fact, that the engaged couple had never actually loved each other, and that they were both in relationships with other people. After that it was simply a matter of convincing each family of the right thing to do, and it would seem that was all they were required for in this world. Unfortunately, while all the detective-work was being conducted, Fai managed to pick up a rather troublesome fever.

He had, at first, played it off as nothing, but as the days wore on, it grew steadily worse. At last, after the mage had almost tripped over his own feet and fallen headfirst into a somewhat overbearingly ornate fountain, Kurogane sentenced him to bed with no chance of parole until the fever broke. Of course, that would be the very day the previously engaged couple would finally choose to end their courtship and be with the ones they truly loved, and the group’s services would no longer be needed in the world. Therefore, as soon as Mokona’s magic began to ignite, Fai knew it could not be helped.

“It’s not Mokona’s fault, Kurogane-san!” a softer voice piped in. “You know traveling worlds is just the life I have to live now…”

“Yeah, yeah, kid, I know, just- just gather what you can and stuff it in your pack! Quickly! I’ll get the mage!”

The door opened abruptly, yet also silently, a testament to the ninja’s desire not to wake the room’s occupant. He was slightly startled, then, when he saw Fai already up and packing a small bag. Promptly composing himself, he gave a curt sigh of annoyance.

“I’m not even going to ask why you’re up. Just know that you _will_ be hearing about it later.”

“Of course, Kuro-sama!” Fai gleamed with a smile as bright as his fever would allow.

Together, the two of them managed to pack what few things they had brought with them, as well as some extras, and made their way into the other room just as Syaoran finishing and Mokona was beginning to open their mouth. In a flash, Kurogane brought Fai across the room and held both the mage and the boy tightly as the world-transfer began.

…

He plopped to the ground with a muffled “Oof!” as the weight of the two he held barreled into him. Usually, he wouldn’t have minded much, as he was often the designated landing pad for his other party members whenever they fell into a new world, but this time the ground was stone. _Stone_. Even to a ninja meticulously trained to endure the harshest of conditions, _stone hurt_ , and Kurogane wasn’t ashamed to say that he was shoving his companions off of him with a grunt much quicker than normal.

“Ouch!”

“Hey!”

“That hurt!”

The cries of protest were loud and clear, but Kurogane paid them no mind… until he remembered Fai’s illness.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, lifting Fai into a sitting position by the elbow. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” the mage replied, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “That little nap I took helped a great deal! I’m just a bit dizzy is all.”

The ninja relaxed slightly, allowing a soft smile to graze his face at the sight of the mage unharmed despite his previous roughness.

“Mokona is fine!”

“Syaoran, too.”

Kurogane winced in realization. “Sorry, I meant you guys, too.”

“That’s fine! We all know why Kuro-puu gives Fai special treatment…” Mokona insinuated with a wink as Syaoran’s facial color reddened slightly. “…It’s because Fai is sick! Poor, sick Fai! Fai gets all the attention until he’s feeling better! And that doubles from Mokona, too!”

Mokona hopped over to give Fai a peck on the check, while Syaoran physically deflated and Kurogane looked on exasperatedly.

“Aww, but that’s too sweet of you Moko-chan! I can’t hog _all_ of your attention!” Fai responded with a small cough, cupping Mokona in his hands.

“Yes, you can!” Mokona blushed. “It’s one of Mokona’s 108 Secret Techniques! Transferring All Attention to Someone Else!”

Kurogane huffed. “Well, why don’t you try using that one a bit more often…”

Syaoran shook his head with a smile while his companions bickered playfully and stood, dusting himself off as the ground was quite filthy. Taking a moment to survey the area, he noticed something quite distressing.

“Umm,” he began, “where’s the sky?”

All conversation abruptly halted as they all realized that, without the light of Mokona’s magic, it was in fact very, very dark. There was no sun, no moon, no stars, and thus no source of light for the group.

“Well that’s… strange,” Fai pondered. “It probably wouldn’t do for me to try to use my magic and conjure a light source in this state. Syaoran, do you still have that device from a few worlds ago? A ‘flashlight,’ they called it? It could help us to know where we are.”

“Right, let me see if I can find it.”

While Syaoran sifted through his bag, Kurogane began to feel slightly uneasy. Surveying their surroundings should have been the first thing he did, and he was mentally punishing himself for not having done so. The world was black- pitch black- with the only source of light being a soft shade of blue illuminating from somewhere above them; the air was stale, and it was _cold_. There was hardly a breeze, but the world itself felt frigid in comparison to the previous world they had occupied.

“I found it!” Syaoran exclaimed, flicking on the light source with ease.

As Syaoran began to shine the light all around them, Kurogane’s heart sank. They had fallen into this world from above, as usual, but this time they didn’t come from the sky… because there was none. Shining the flashlight upwards proved the fact—they were in some sort of gargantuan structure with tall walls and a domed ceiling.

In other words, they were likely underground.

The ninja was instantly on edge. Being underground meant having fewer escape routes, and being at a distinct disadvantage to anything that may already reside in the labyrinthine tunnels. As a child, he was told many horror stories of people getting trapped underground in a demon’s lair and never seeing the light of day again.

“Kurogane?” chimed a tiny voice. “Is everything okay?”

Taking a deep breath and pushing his fears aside, he gave Mokona a pat on the head. “Yeah, manjuu, I’m just not the biggest fan of our current surroundings.”

“Neither is Mokona,” the small creature shivered. “Mokona is _cold_.”

“You can hide in my jacket if you want,” Fai offered. “I’m sure it’s plenty warm in there!”

“A bit too warm, if you ask me,” Kurogane retorted, reaching out to feel the mage’s forehead.

“You would know,” Fai sighed playfully as took the large hand between both of his own. “I’ll be fine, Kuro-sama, but we should probably start looking to find the citizens of this world. I mean, there must be _someone_ here who can offer us some shelter from this cold!”

“Someone…” Kurogane repeated as Fai began to walk ahead of him.

“Or some _thing_ …” Syaoran finished quietly.

“So you don’t like the feel of this place either, huh, kid?”

“That’s the thing, Kurogane-san, there is no feeling. There’s nothing here, and it’s rather unnerving. If I were to give a comparison, I would say that this world feels a lot like…”

“Like the mage’s world? Yeah. I understand. But at the same time it still feels different from then, almost as if it’s been empty for a whole lot longer.”

Syaoran nodded his head in agreement as they both moved to catch up with Fai. The further they walked, the stronger the illuminating blue light from before became, and Syaoran was eventually able to turn off the flashlight as the hall they had been traversing opened up into a grand atrium filled with a bright blue light that emanated from the windows carved into the rock high above.

“Daylight!” Fai rejoiced with Mokona. Kurogane had to reach an arm out to steady him when he began to waver looking up towards the light.

“Mage, you really shouldn’t be walking around so much. Why don’t you sit down here and rest? The kid and I will look around and see if we can tell where...” he hesitated, “what sort of place we’ve ended up in this time around.”

“If you say so, Kuro-sama,” Fai relented tiredly, allowing Kurogane to guide him to the ground. “How chivalrous of you to find such a nice, dusty corner for Mokona and I to plop down in!”

“Plop, plop!” Mokona sang, rolling around in the dust on the floor. “Look, Mokona is Other Mokona now!”

Kurogane shook his head at their antics, knowing that it was mainly the fever talking for Fai at this point, and rejoined Syaoran.

“Kurogane-san, look!” Syaoran exclaimed excitedly as he pointed towards the wall he had been studying. “There’s more to this structure than I thought! It seems to be a ruin of some kind!”

Across the tattered and cracked wall were rows upon rows of runes and glyphs neatly inscribed into the stone. Syaoran was already digging out his notebook and a piece of chalk from his bag when Fai’s voice called out.

“But, to be a ruin would mean that it hasn’t been taken care of, right? Surely there must be people here to care for all of this detailed architecture?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps this is someplace sacred to them that they never enter? Like a temple of some kind? These pillars with flying buttresses stretching up against the ceiling look very similar to those of old temples my father and I used to—or, rather, my clone and his substitute father used to explore and excavate.”

“Well, I do hope it’s all right for us to be here then, if it’s someplace sacred…”

Fai barely even noticed he’d spoken, focused as he was on cleaning Mokona, who wanted now to go back to being their own white color.

Syaoran leaned in towards Kurogane as he started to take his first rubbing of a series of runes.

“Fai really needs to be resting somewhere,” he whispered. “He’s trying to stay positive, but I know he can sense that this world most likely has no people. With the fever, though, I can’t really be sure…”

“I know, kid,” Kurogane agreed. “Once we’re finished up in this room, we’ll press on and try to find someplace a bit more comfortable where he can rest for a bit, then we’ll try to find a way out of this place.”

“What exactly do you think we’re meant to do in a world that has no people?”

“I’m not sure, but we must have landed here for some reason, otherwise the pork bun would have gotten us out by now.”

Syaoran made a noise of understanding and went back to his work, eager to begin translating, while Kurogane rejoined Fai and Mokona.

“Maybe I’ll ask Kimihiro later…” the brunette mused to himself.

“There!” Fai breathed in accomplishment. “All clean again! Try not to jump in any more piles of dust, okay?”

“Okay!” Mokona cheered. “Mokona didn’t like it anyway! There was something really pointy that kept poking Mokona!”

“Something pointy?”

Fai examined the dusty floor in front of him, shuffling through a thick layer as something caught his eye.

“Kuro… Syaoran…”

The two turned at the sound of Fai’s quiet, slightly concerned tone, staring with wide eyes at what he had uncovered in the dirt.

Lying there, still partially buried, were the remains of a hand—decayed, skeletal, and much larger than it should have been. The mage glanced at the corner just beyond the hand, squinting into the darkness as it was obscured from the light shining above.

“Syaoran,” he began, licking his suddenly very dry lips and pointing. “Can you shine the light towards there?”

Quickly obliging, Syaoran turned the flashlight back on, and Mokona squealed in fright.

A large skeleton was illuminated in the dim yellow light, half-buried beneath a mound of dust.

“Well… shit,” Kurogane muttered. “That’s been dead for ages.”

“Rather uncouth of you, isn’t it, Kuro-sama,” Fai berated, though his voice betrayed a hint of amusement. “Joking aside, what was this? Look at its _skull_. It’s elongated, in the back and sides, and its teeth are pointed. The rest of the body—this couldn’t have been a human…”

“It looks exactly like the beings depicted in the hieroglyphs on the wall!” Syaoran said in amazement as he strode over and began to carefully measure one of the dust-covered skeletal legs. “Could this have been one of the inhabitants of this world? Could this just be what they looked like? These proportions… the sheer scale… This person must have been at least ten feet tall!”

Fai blinked. “So… Kuro’s height?”

“Shut it, mage.”

“Mokona doesn’t want to stay here!” a shrill voice suddenly cried out from inside Fai’s jacket. “Mokona doesn’t like it here! This reminds Mokona of Tokyo—the bad Tokyo where the rain hurt!”

Fai reached a hand in to pet the creature’s head. “I’m sorry, Mokona. You’re right. We should keep moving.”

Syaoran began to replace all of his equipment into his bag as Kurogane moved to help Fai stand.

“No!” Mokona continued. “Not just that! Mokona wants to leave this _world_! Something isn’t right!”

Fai gripped Kurogane’s hand a bit harder as he stood from the floor, but said nothing. The entire group was silent as Syaoran slung his bag over his back and readied the flashlight for further exploration, though no one moved.

Finally, Kurogane scoffed. “Well, if you don’t like it so much, why don’t we just leave?”

“Mokona can’t.”

The answer was instantaneous, and followed by a sniffle.

“Mokona tried just now. Something is keeping Mokona from using magic here. Mokona can still take out items, but can’t start a world-transfer, or even contact Watanuki and Other Mokona!”

“I could conjure a—”

“NO,” the ninja cut Fai off. “You are not using your magic with a fever; we don’t know what could happen! You shouldn’t even be up! Come on, you and the pork bun can ride on my back.”

“I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own, AND of performing my own magic, but very well. I will refrain from using my magic and we can all stay in the death temple of dust and bones.”

With that, Fai sauntered off closer to Syaoran, coughing into his sleeve. Syaoran grabbed his arms as he faltered slightly.

“I’m fine,” Fai countered, waving Syaoran off. “Just some dizziness is all.”

“Even so,” Syaoran began. “We should probably find someplace where we can rest a bit. I’m feeling a little tired myself.”

Fai started back, then lowered his eyes in shame as he realized what Syaoran was trying to do.

“Of course. You’re right. Let’s press on a bit and find someplace to settle. It looks like it may be getting dark here.”

The light of the room had turned from a luminous turquoise to a deep sapphire while they had been occupying it, and everyone took a moment to look up at the sky through the windows—perhaps the last time for a while—before Kurogane sighed.

“All right. Let’s go.”

…

Exiting the room from the opposite end of where they had entered, the group found themselves in another long hallway similar to the one they had landed in to begin with, running adjacent to the large atrium.

“This hallway is identical to the one on the other side…” Syaoran mused, momentarily holding the flashlight under his arm as he rubbed his hands together to fend off the sudden chill. “That atrium must have been used for something important to have two large entryways leading into it.”

Kurogane narrowed his eyes at the sight of his frosty breath. “Is it just me, or is it colder in the hallways than it is in that room?”

“There-” Fai sighed as he leaned against a nearby wall, swallowing another cough. “There was a sigil stone in that room, at the very top. Didn’t you see it?”

“A what?”

“A sigil stone… It’s strange. Even now it still holds its enchantment… Even now…”

Kurogane swooped in to catch the mage as he began to fall forward.

“Fai!”

“Fai-san!”

Kurogane ignored the cries of his companions as he felt Fai’s forehead.

“His fever is getting worse,” he commented, turning back towards the atrium. “Come on. We should go back to that room and rest. It may not be comfortable, but at least it’s warmer.”

Despite the fact that they would be resting near unburied remains, no one could find it within them to deny that it was better than searching for another place with Fai out cold and in desperate need of rest.

Upon returning to the atrium, the light of the day had faded into an azure that was rapidly growing fainter. It was then that Kurogane noticed the slight red gleam at the top of the domed ceiling.

“Is that what he was talking about?” he wondered aloud as Mokona, who was now residing in Syaoran’s arms, produced Fai’s fluffy coat from his magical supply.

“Here, we can use this to make Fai comfortable!”

Syaoran gratefully accepted the article of clothing and, after placing the flashlight on top of a raised platform to keep the room somewhat lit, spread it out on the floor in the least dusty area he could find. Kurogane wasted no time in placing Fai and throwing his own cloak on top of him.

“With any luck, he’ll sweat this out tonight, but…”

“I don’t think he’ll be rid of it so easily,” Syaoran finished. “Not with all the excitement this past hour has seen us through.”

Kurogane made a “Hm” noise of agreement, and left it at that, taking his place beside Fai to wait out the night.

“You should get some rest, kid. I’ll keep watch.”

“You’ll wake me in a few hours for watch, too, right?”

“Right, just sleep,” he affirmed, watching as Mokona provided Syaoran with his bedroll. “And that goes to you, too, manjuu. I’ve got this covered.”

“Can I- can I sleep with Fai?” the tiny being asked as they shuffled closer. “I was too loud! Too scared! I made Fai worse…”

Kurogane scoffed and grabbed the plushy creature by the head.

“It had nothing to do with that!” he assured, in his own gruff way. “The idiot was sick before we got here and he just overdid it. Stubborn fool.”

He dropped Mokona on Fai’s chest softly.

“Go on, then. And let me know if anything changes with him.”

Mokona gave a soft noise of delight before burrowing into Fai’s side. It wasn’t long before the soft , even breaths of both Mokona and Syaoran confirmed their descent into the realm of sleep.

Kurogane narrowed his eyes at Fai. “You should be resting. You know you can’t hide from me that you aren’t.”

Fai’s eyes opened tiredly. “I wasn’t trying to.”

A few minutes passed by in silence, the only sounds being the soft hum of the wind above the chamber. By then, the entire room was bathed in the soft cerulean glow of night, and Kurogane’s eyes were slowly adjusting to the dim light in an attempt to keep watch of both entryways.

“Kurogane.”

The ninja’s head snapped towards his ill companion, who rarely ever used that name.

Fai licked his lips before quietly continuing.

“I didn’t want to worry Syaoran or Mokona, so I didn’t mention anything, but I have a feeling they already know. Kurogane,” Fai shifted his head until his concerned expression met his companion’s, “there’s no one in this world. I can’t feel any semblance of life at all whatsoever. Usually there’s something—anything—but not here. There hasn’t been life here in so long… Not even animals. We are **completely alone**. What are we supposed to do in a world with no other living beings? What are we meant to accomplish?”

“I don’t know, mage, but you shouldn’t try to dwell on it now,” Kurogane hushed, placing a hand upon Fai’s brow and brushing aside a section of blonde hair.

Fai leaned into the touch, but found himself unable to leave the matter be.

“I know, but I can’t help feeling Mokona’s right. There’s something wrong with this world. I felt it as soon as we arrived. It’s not just that there are no people here, aside from our charming friend in the corner,” Fai turned his gaze toward the dust-covered, still half-buried skeleton across the atrium. “Something’s just… off. And I feel as if that something is exactly what’s preventing Mokona from initiating a world-transfer. These people, regardless of how they looked, were clearly mages of some kind. I can sense the last remnants of their magic all around us.”

“Like that thing up there? A ‘sigil stone’?”

The two stared up at the large red stone fixed into the ceiling above them.

“Yes. An enchanted item, meant to function in whatever way the magician enchanting it wants. It looks like this one was meant to provide this room with heat. But the magic is so weak now… The core enchantment is fading, and has been for many, many years...”

Fai trailed off, his eyes slipping closed as he drifted into sleep. Kurogane noticed, but did not remove his hand. Instead, he began to gently—almost too gently for a ninja—run it through the other’s hair methodically, pondering what Fai had mentioned. Now it was confirmed that all four of them felt something off about the world. Something was definitely not as it seemed, and they were utterly alone in trying to figure it out.

“Not even any animals…”

Sighing, he removed his hand from the mage’s hair and retrieved a small piece of cloth from his pack. Opening a water bottle Mokona had produced earlier (he would have to make sure the steamed bun still had all the water he’d previously asked them to store), he poured a small amount onto the cloth and place it upon Fai’s forehead before taking one of his hands into his own. He glanced at Mokona, snoring softly against Fai’s side, and then at Syaoran, lying still in a well-practiced position that would allow him to move quickly when he awakens if need be. Kurogane smiled, his heart gladdened to know that the kid had been taking his lessons to heart, and his hands tightened around Fai’s.

No one was getting anywhere near his family that night.

…

A few hours passed in relative peacefulness. Kurogane kept himself occupied by studying the magical stone high above him, and taking a few more sketches in Syaoran’s notebook of different runes he had previously missed, knowing his charge would be grateful. He wasn’t feeling particularly tired, but he knew that he’d best get some rest just in case, so he turned to wake his slumbering companion for the next watch…

…and his heart sank with dread.

There was _something_ standing in the entryway to his right, silhouetted in the faint glow of night, watching them.

“Kid!” Kurogane hissed softly, attempting not to rouse those not addressed.

He succeeded, and the boy sprang up from his sleep, poised (albeit drowsily) in a battle-ready stance. Syaoran’s movement momentarily blocked Kurogane’s view of whatever was standing in the entryway, and by the time the ninja was able to move his protégé out of the way, whatever it was had vanished.

Syaoran shook off the last vestiges of sleep and look left, then right, moving closer to the ninja while still wary of his surroundings.

“Kurogane-san?” he finally whispered hesitantly, eyeing him as he stared in disbelief at the entryway. “What is it? Is something here?”

The man didn’t break his gaze from where he had seen the figure.

“Kid, do you remember when I taught you how to sense your surroundings? You’ve felt it the entire time we’ve been here, haven’t you? There’s nothing here—and no one?”

“Yeah,” Syaoran affirmed. “I can’t sense anything. I don’t feel watched, either. It’s like even the world itself is dead. Why? Do you- can you sense something?”

“Hmmm,” Kurogane grunted, finally looking away from the entrance and down towards the ground to collect his thoughts. “No. I can’t. There’s nothing. No part of me is telling me right now that there is anything else living nearby…”

Syaoran waited, but the man said nothing more.

“Did you see something?”

It took a moment, but Kurogane then looked up to lock eyes with his apprentice. “I did. There was something watching us, and I didn’t feel its presence _at all_.”

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise. He had never heard of the ninja’s keen senses being unable to detect something potentially harmful.

“So, then,” he began uneasily. “What was it?”

“I don’t know, but we’re not sticking around to find out.”

The man stooped in front of his still sleeping companions and retrieved the somewhat dried, warm rag from the mage’s forehead, noting that his fever had gone down slightly, but was still high enough to be troublesome.

“Oi, mage. Wake up. We have to move.”

“Wha… Kuro-chii?” a groggy voice mumbled as its owner sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. Mokona yipped in surprise as they suddenly rolled down into Fai’s lap.

“Sorry, but we have to go. Now.”

“Why? What happened?” Mokona inquired as Fai blushed at the sight of Kurogane’s cloak now bunched up across his legs.

Quietly returning the article to its owner, Fai moved to collect his own cloak from beneath him.

“Didn’t Kurogane-san get any sleep?”

“I’ll be fine, kid; just pack up.”

Mokona swallowed Fai’s coat and Syaoran’s bedroll, then turned towards Kurogane.

“Did something happen while Mokona and Fai were sleeping?”

“There was just… I think we may not be entirely alone here, despite evidence to the contrary.”

Fai leapt up, using the wall as support. “What do you mean? There’s _nothing. here._ I’m sure of it!”

“I know. So am I. So is the kid,” Kurogane jabbed a finger towards Syaoran, who had just finished packing his notes away. “But trust me when I say this: there was something else here with us just a few minutes ago and it may still be here. Kid, you ready?”

“Ready!” Syaoran replied, joining the rest of them as Mokona hopped up to perch on his shoulders.

“Fai, are you feeling better?”

“Much better, Moko-chan!” Fai said with a smile.

“Your fever isn’t gone, yet,” Kurogane scolded. “You still shouldn’t be walking around so much.”

“If you’re offering to carry me, please allow me to respectfully decline,” Fai insisted, holding a palm out to push away from the ninja. “This isn’t exactly the threshold I have in mind to be carried across.”

With a wink, the mage turned away while Syaoran lit up the flashlight. The boy closed his eyes and shook his head with a smile, well aware of the relationship between his two older companions, but wisely choosing not to comment on it.

Turning a shade darker, Kurogane gave a huff and motioned for Syaoran to lead the way into the hallway they had attempted to go through earlier. As the group passed beneath the stone archway, the ninja gave one last look at the entryway opposite the room, where he had seen the figure. There was nothing there.

“I guess it’s still nighttime,” Syaoran’s musings startled Kurogane from his scrutiny. “The hall seems much darker than it did yesterday.”

“And colder!” Mokona added. “Mokona is cold, cold, cold! Kuro-puu! Warm Mokona up!”

“No.”

“Wah!!! How mean!”

Mokona jumped around in a tizzy before Kurogane managed to grab the small white puff and stuff them in his cloak without a word.


	3. Act II

Over the course of the next few hours, the group traversed the many halls and chambers of the seemingly endless structure. It grew steadily brighter as time passed, to Kurogane’s relief. If the brightness of day was shining in from somewhere, that meant that they weren’t completely underground like the thick stone walls surrounding them had originally made him believe. This relief was overshadowed, however, by the thought of the figure he had seen watching them. What was it? Why could he not recall exactly what it looked like? How tall was it? Was it even human, or shaped like the skeleton they had found? These thoughts plagued Kurogane like salt in a wound, and he found himself wishing only that he and his companions could leave this place before they ever had the chance to find out.

Fai was doing much better, as he had stated previously, but had to take several breaks to rest even during the first hour. He casually played off his weariness by acting like he was giving Syaoran more time to pour over the notes he had previously taken; and, despite knowing that this was a ruse, it was silently decided upon to grant the mage his pride in the matter.

Syaoran, over time, grew from apprehensive of his surroundings, to curious of his notes, to completely fawning over the heavily detailed writings etched into nearly every wall of every chamber. He would go from room to room, first checking to ensure the safety of his companions, then hastily producing his notebook to take more rubbings and scribble more notes. He was in complete awe of the extraordinary architecture, and was constantly wondering how on earth any people, despite the apparent size of this world’s denizens, could manage to build such an impressively detailed structure. They seemed to have an obsession with rectangles, he noticed, as there was an innumerable amount of said shapes neatly protruding from every wall they could see, evenly spaced apart from each other and very large in size. As he led the way into another room, roughly three hours into their exploration, he began to dwell on the only thing hindering his delight of the abandoned civilization…

“This temple is amazing, but I wish there were some way I could read these runes! If only I could piece together what might have happened, or even what this place was built for!”

Fai blinked at Syaoran as they were settling down for another rest. “What are you talking about? I can read them just fine?”

Now it was Syaoran’s turn to blink at Fai, while Kurogane looked on and Mokona’s head tilted slightly to one side.

“This wall is talking about the ‘rites of the dead.’ Can’t you… Isn’t Mokona… You can’t understand it?”

“You,” Syaoran began quietly. “You’ve been able to read this the _entire time_?!”

He hastily took a seat beside the mage, with Kurogane and Mokona joining them shortly after.

“All of these runes, all of these notes I’ve taken—you can tell me what they say?”

“Well, yes,” Fai stammered. “I’m sorry, Syaoran, I didn’t know you couldn’t read them. I thought that since I understood them, Mokona must be able to translate for us. I guess I was wrong?”

Fai turned towards Mokona, who jumped into Syaoran’s lap to look at the notes.

“Mokona can’t read any of this! It doesn’t look like any language Mokona’s ever seen! Maybe it’s something closer to Fai’s language?”

“That’s right,” Kurogane mused. “The manjuu’s never been able to really help us understand written languages in other worlds, only spoken.”

“So, maybe, these runes are similar to Celesian? Or Valarian?”

Fai winced at the mention of his birth-world, but understood the boy meant well.

“No, the script flows very easily into words, but it definitely isn’t a language I’ve ever studied. How very strange… Perhaps it has to do with my affinity for magic? These people were clearly mages of some kind, or had mages at their disposal. Sigil stones are difficult to make; many mages have to get involved.”

Syaoran thought for a moment. “I’m going to go take a rubbing of that wall you were just reading. The ‘rites of the dead’? I’ll be right back! In the meantime, do you think you can make sense of what I’ve gathered so far?”

Fai accepted the notebook from the eager child, smiling brightly. “Of course!”

Syaoran beamed back at him before taking off with another piece of charcoal and some paper. Kurogane used this opening to take the spot beside Fai that the boy had been occupying.

“The kid’s certainly having a good time,” he said as he rubbed his hands together, blowing into them in a feeble attempt to fend off the chill all of them were undoubtedly feeling. “Magical language barriers or not, it would definitely be nice if we could find another one of those sigil stones.”

“Mokona agrees! Mokona agrees!” the creature cried, burrowing into Fai’s cloak.

“Yes, it would be,” Fai agreed, his breath coming out in puffs as he flipped through the pages of the notebook. “But I have a feeling something was special about that room. It seemed to be a sanctuary of some kind. Why would someone have died in a place such as that?”

Kurogane grunted, recalling the skeleton in the dark corner. “I’m not sure. Maybe it was a sacrifice? We haven’t found any other remains-”

Syaoran’s yell broke them from their conversation, and Kurogane was at the boy’s side in an instant with an unsheathed Ginryuu.

“What is it? What happened?!”

“There- there was something here! I don’t know what it was—I didn’t see it—but it was here, looming right over me! One moment, there was nothing, and then the next-”

“It’s all right, Syaoran, just breathe,” Fai instructed, walking over and placing his hands on the panicked boy’s shoulders as the ninja kept watch. “Calm yourself. Deep breaths. That’s it.”

Within minutes, Syaoran was breathing normally again, though was no less unsettled.

“What did you see?” Kurogane asked, still wary though he sheathed his blade.

“A shadow…” Syaoran explained. “And I know that doesn’t sound like much, but, Kurogane-san, it wasn’t _right_. It didn’t look like the normal shadow of a person.”

Syaoran pressed his lips together and continued.

“And it was just as you said last night: I couldn’t feel its presence. At. All. There was nothing there! But it was right behind me!”

Fai drew his charge into a soft hug. “Don’t worry, Syaoran. There’s nothing here, now. Kuro-scary chased them away!”

“Not them,” Syaoran whispered. “ _It_.”

Fai drew back, still holding onto Syaoran’s shoulder while worriedly looking towards Kurogane. The ninja only looked on, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“Let’s keep moving,” he finally uttered. “There’s more daylight coming in, despite the darkness of this place, so we must be getting closer to a way out.”

Fai and Syaoran agreed, and the latter began gathering his equipment once more.

“Kuro-sama,” Fai hesitated. “I think- well, it might be in our best interests if, perhaps, you were to carry me? I seem to be slowing us down...”

Kurogane smiled ever so slightly, grateful for the display of trust from his companion-turned-lover, and offered his back to the smaller man without a word.

The mage graciously accepted, and by the time he was settled, Syaoran had rejoined them with the flashlight.

Mokona, who had been silent throughout the whole affair, hopped from Fai’s cloak to Syaoran’s as he drew near.

“Mokona wants to ride with Syaoran! Mokona doesn’t want to be scared anymore, so Mokona will chase away all the bad shadows!”

Syaoran smiled sweetly at the tiny being, who was trembling slightly. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Mokona.”

…

It was another three hours later when the group sat down to take another break. During his time resting on Kurogane’s back, Fai had been reading through Syaoran’s notes and rubbings, and had gone strangely quiet during the last half-hour. Even after settling himself on the ground, he still said not a word to his companions, and seemed to be quite depressed about something.

“Umm,” Syaoran finally stuttered. “I know it’s not much, but I managed to grab a few cans of food from the last world we were in before we were swept up in Mokona’s magic, and I’m a bit hungry… Anyone else?”

Syaoran pulled a few cans from his pack, displaying the food curiously.

“Good thinking, kid. I could eat something,” Kurogane replied, retrieving one of the cans and pulling the tab to open it.

“Wait,” Fai warned, finally breaking his silence. “They would always heat that up before eating it. I’m not sure you’d want to eat it cold like that. Here.”

Fai placed a few of Syaoran’s empty notebook pages on the ground and set them alight with a small spell.

“I hope you don’t mind, Syaoran.”

“It’s fine,” the boy responded. “But perhaps you shouldn’t be using magic right now?”

“Kid’s right, mage. We talked about this.”

“I know, but I really am feeling better. These past few hours of rest have really done me some good.”

Syaoran sat down his can of sustenance and reached over to feel Fai’s forehead.

“Well, your fever has gone down… But you’ve had me worried this past while. You got so quiet, I figured you must not be feeling well again.”

“Is Fai really feeling okay?” Mokona chimed, jumping into Fai’s lap with a worried expression.

Kurogane set about warming up the food—concerned that the fire could easily be spotted, but also knowing that they were in desperate need of food and warmth—while listening for Fai’s response.

“Well, it depends, really.”

Fai reached down to pat Mokona’s head with one hand while handing Syaoran back his notebook with the other.

“My body is feeling almost back to normal, but my soul is definitely hurting. I’ve deciphered your notes, Syaoran. And I believe I know what may have happened to the people here.”

Syaoran and Kurogane instantly sat at attention, the food momentarily forgotten.

“It’s going to be a bit difficult to explain, but perhaps I should start with this: I’m afraid we haven’t been traversing a temple this whole time as you believed, Syaoran...”

Fai held Mokona a little tighter and swallowed heavily.

“We’re in a tomb.”

…

A few minutes later saw each member of the group sitting around the fire, sipping their own cans of soup while waiting for Fai to begin his explanation in detail. As it turns out, they didn’t have to wait long.

“You’ve seen the large rectangles jutting out from every single wall? Like those over there?”

Fai pointed towards a nearby wall containing the very shapes he was describing.

“Yes, they’re everywhere,” Syaoran commented. “I thought, perhaps, that the people of this world used them as decoration, or maybe as some sort of tribute to their gods. There are just too many of them to be-”

“They’re coffins.”

The youth nearly dropped his can.

“The hell are you talking about?! We have to have passed hundreds of those things! They stretch on forever and nearly go up to the ceiling!” the ninja interjected.

“That’s because they contain hundreds of years of this civilization’s residents.”

“Hundreds of years…” Syaoran whispered in disbelief. “So we’ve been walking through catacombs this whole tome?”

“No,” Fai replied solemnly. “This was their home. The rooms we’ve been exploring? They were most likely apartments of some kind.”

“That makes no sense,” Kurogane interrupted. “Why would they live around their dead? Did they have some sick fascination with mortem gods or something?”

“That’s not how it originally started,” Fai continued. “It took me a while to put the timeline in order, but from what I can gather this culture used to be out in the open, not enclosed within stone walls. For a very long time they were just like any other society, albeit one with great magical power—farming for food, digging for water, hunting for meat—but their writing style drastically changed as time went on.

“They began to notice that their crops were growing smaller and smaller, and water was getting scarcer. The freezing climate of the world was getting colder, despite their spells and sigil stones, and they were powerless to stop it. Realizing this, their leaders proposed to completely enclose the lands. They would build a great hall, so to speak, that would protect them from the cold and allow them to live prosperously once more. I’m unsure how they had ever planned on farming in such a structure, but perhaps they were going to use spells of some kind for that as well.

“Over the next several decades, this grand structure was built, primarily through the use of magic to lift the heavy stones. Their ‘hall of the dead,’ which was the largest building they had at their disposal from what I can tell, was where they began their expansion. They kept building and building, each year with fewer and fewer mages surviving the strenuous labor in such harsh conditions. By the time they had nearly completed construction, less than one-fourth of the population remained, and it would seem none of them were children. There are several hieroglyphic reliefs from your rubbings that depict women praying to what appears to be a goddess of maternity, and several also depicting this goddess with her back turned to the women, insinuating she must have been ignoring their pleas. I’ve heard tale of female mages who use too much of their powers at once becoming barren, but I never expected it was actually true…”

“So without any children to carry on the line they all just… froze to death?” Kurogane interjected once more, setting his now-empty can aside. “They killed themselves with their endless construction?”

“So it would seem,” the mage replied, resting his head on his knees. “It truly must have been awful to die like that. Starving and freezing…”

Mokona squeezed one of Fai’s hands in both of their little ones. “Is Fai sad because he remembers the pit in Valeria?”

The blonde said nothing, instead choosing to close his eyes and hold Mokona close. Kurogane responded by giving him a light knock on the top of his head.

“Stop it, mage. You’ll only make yourself feel worse, thinking like that.”

“Fai-san,” Syaoran consoled, placing a hand on the mage’s shoulder, “there is nothing you could have done to save these people. It just… seems that luck wasn’t on their side. But it’s over and done with now. We can’t change the fact that they are gone.”

Fai nodded and then looked up, wearing a hopeful expression. “Perhaps we were only sent here to learn their story? To make sure they aren’t forgotten? Mokona, are you able to start a world-transfer?”

Mokona opened their mouth, but no magical script came out.

“No, and Mokona still can’t talk to Watanuki or Other Mokona! Something still isn’t right…”

“What happened here was tragic,” Syaoran agreed. “But I also feel like there’s something else going on.”

“I’m of the same opinion,” Fai sighed. “I was simply hoping it could possibly have been that easy.”

“Nothing is ever that easy nowadays, mage,” Kurogane said, “except for that ridiculous fiasco in the last world.”

Mokona took this opportunity to lighten the mood and bounced up and down excitedly.

“Ha ha! Kurogane had to play matchmaker! Who knew Kurogane was so good at _love_ ~!” they laughed, narrowly avoiding the ninja’s death grip.

Kurogane tried to ignore the fact that the mage raised his hand so candidly at Mokona’s inquiry.

Syaoran, although thankful for Mokona’s distraction, still found himself unable to forget what they had just been discussing.

“You only said that they had neared completion of this structure,” he reflected towards Fai. “Does that mean it was never finished?”

“I don’t know,” Fai answered, his half-eaten can of soup finding a place on the ground beside Kurogane’s empty one. “That was all I could gather from your notes. Perhaps if we go a bit further, we can find out more. It seems to still be daytime, so we should use the light while we can. We don’t know how much longer Syaoran’s flashlight is going to hold without something to charge it.”

“And you?” Kurogane questioned as he stood and held out a hand to help the other up. “Are you going to hold for much longer?”

Fai smiled tiredly and took the hand, hauling himself up. “Are you saying you’d like to charge me?”

Kurogane blushed, crossing his arms with a huff.

“Tch. That’s what I’ve _been_ doing, carrying you around like I have!”

The blonde leaned against his tanned companion, entwining their hands once more.

“I won’t lie, Kuro-observant, I’m not feeling particularly ill any longer, but I am exhausted. I would give anything to simply lie down and sleep forever, but I can’t. We have to find a way out of this world first, and I’m afraid I just don’t have the energy to enact a world-transfer myself yet. Besides, I can’t be the only one suffering here. The cold must be doing dreadful things to your arm.”

Kurogane said nothing, but brought a hand up to his shoulder, where flesh met metal. His eyes met those of his lover in understanding, and he leaned in to offer Fai a small embrace as Syaoran doused the fire and donned his pack, flashlight at the ready.

“We still have a few more cans of food,” the brunette began, “and some bottles of water. Mokona, you said you can still access your stores, right?”

“Right! Mokona has tons of water bottles! Kuro made me to take a lot!”

“Tch. It’s the first rule of survival: if you don’t have water, you die.”

“Well, we can all thank you for thinking ahead later, when we’re enjoying water bottles in a different, _warmer_ world, Kuro-survivalist.”

With that, the group began to move forward once more, leaving behind nothing but a few empty cans and burnt pages scattered across the ground.

…

No more than one hour later, the group found the endless hallways they traversed to be lightening up, and the windows moving lower and lower to the ground. Their moods steadily brightened as it seemed they were finally traversing their way upwards and out of the dispiriting halls of the dead. As they seemed to finally reach ground level, the passageway suddenly opened up, leading into a superfluously large antechamber.

What should have been an even more comforting sight to the travelers, however, ended up only filling them with sheer dread and no small amount of confusion. In the light that poured in from the entryway of the spacious chamber, they could see several decaying skeletons, similar in size and shape to the one they had discovered after they’d first arrived.

Each skeleton was facing away from the chamber, as if fleeing the large room, and a few were even still on their hands and knees, reaching outwards in front of them as if they had been trying to claw away from something when they had suddenly perished, their bodies unable to even hit the floor.

Mokona hid deep within Syaoran’s cloak, while the boy looked on in grim fascination, wondering what on earth could have caused such a phenomenon.

Fai was silent, pressing his lips into a thin line and trying his best not to think about a certain massacre from his previous home-world.

Kurogane was the first to break the silence and knelt by one of the bodies, inspecting its position.

“There was a battle here,” he concluded, examining the ancient scorch marks on the floor. “One that seems to have ended badly for the mages.”

“This-,” Syaoran had to swallow a lump in his throat before continuing. “This seems to be where all the remaining people must have gathered—a vestibule of sorts, leading to the outside. Perhaps they gathered here to die? But how could starvation cause deaths like _this_?”

“It doesn’t,” Fai stated plainly.

The blond observed the scene surrounding the entry to the vestibule.

“You would think that they would be glad to be closer to the outside world…” he commented. “So why are they running away from it?”

Kurogane kept a hand on the hilt of his blade, with Syaoran following suite, as they moved forward cautiously towards the entryway of the antechamber. The room was much larger and warmer than the one they had previously spent the night in, and the dull grayish-blue pastels of late day streamed in through several windows that encompassed the entire chamber. Such clarity of their surroundings provided no peace of mind to the travelers, however, as they took in the state of the chamber before them.

They had finally found the way out of the suffocating structure, and it was in the form of a large, sealed doorway overrun with the bodies of the dead.

Oversized bones lay scattered all around the chamber, a great many of them still forming near-complete skeletons that lay piled in front of two great stone doors. Similar to the ones found in the hall just outside of the room, some of the skeletal arms were still outstretched, grasping desperately at the air in front of them.

“It’s as if…”

“They died instantly,” Kurogane finished, before Fai even had a chance to continue his thought. The blonde didn’t call him out on his boldness, but instead investigated the scene surrounding them, noting the scorch marks littering the ground.

“There was fighting here, too. It seems they were trying to use fire magic to combat something. I have to give them credit; elemental magic is quite difficult to control.”

“Is that why it’s so warm in here?”

“I don’t think so, Kuro-sama. I think we’re just nearby another sigil stone. This room does seem important enough to garner one.”

Syaoran spared a glance at the ceiling, searching for the glowing magical object, but found no sign of it. Instead, he saw traces of crumbled stone and dark patches where battle spells must have once been cast.

“But, what were they fighting?” he wondered aloud.

“Mokona doesn’t want to know,” came a whisper from inside the boy’s cloak.

“It’s all right, Mokona,” he reassured, pointing towards the blocked doors. “Look, whatever it is, they must have been trying to seal it out.”

“It would seem that way, but…” Kurogane trailed off as he inspected the way the bodies lay. “To me it almost seems like-”

“They were crawling over each other trying to _get_ out,” Fai finished, returning the ninja’s previous interruption back to him.

Kurogane nodded, continuing.

“Do you see how their positioned? It may look like they were trying to press against the doors at first, but if you look a bit closer at some of them, you can tell that they were actually desperately pulling on those giant handles.”

Fai carefully made his way through the bodies to get a better look at the door. Frowning slightly, he placed a single hand on the olden stone and focused his magic, beginning to softly glow and hover above the ground. Upon completion of his inspection, he returned to the floor and faltered slightly before regaining his bearings.

“This door is sealed with very, _very_ strong magic,” he concluded, turning to face his companions. “Even at full strength, I could never hope to break the spell cast upon these doors without several years of effort.”

Mokona poked their head out of Syaoran’s cloak.

“But Fai said that even half of his magic was too great for anyone to handle!”

“Exactly,” Fai replied in a worried tone. “I feel like this sounds a bit cliché after how many times we’ve said this since we arrived here, but something just isn’t right. There is _no one_ that should be able to hold such magic, let alone cast it.”

The group was silent for a few moments as Fai continued to study the doors.

“Well, there’s no use trying to get these open,” Fai finally stated, dusting off his hands and tiptoeing his way back around the skeletons. “Come on; we usually never land too far away from whatever we’re meant to be accomplishing in each world. After how far we’ve walked, we must be close!”

“Well…” Syaoran interjected thoughtfully. “There was that one time where we literally had to travel to the realm of the dead...”

“ _Excluding_ that one time where we literally had to travel to the realm of the dead. And, besides, technically that still wasn’t too far from where we landed! It was just in a different dimension!”

“Seemed pretty far to me.”

“Hush, Kuro-traitor.”

Kurogane reached out to place a hand on Fai’s forehead.

“I thought you were acting a bit off. Your fever’s coming back.”

“It’s just getting late in the day. You know how these things spark up at night. I’ll be fine. We have to keep going.”

“You shouldn’t have used magic just now,” the ninja interjected, moving closer to the mage.

Fai quieted him by pressing a finger to his lips. “Kuro-sama, could you make yourself useful and start looking for something that may give us a clue behind what happened here?”

Kurogane looked ready to murder the mage, but was luckily distracted by Syaoran’s excited announcement.

“I think I may have already found it!” the boy said, inspecting what appeared to be old crates on the far side of the room. “Fai-san, look!”

Fai untangled himself from the larger man’s limbs and hurriedly made his way to Syaoran’s side, his face lighting up at the containers’ contents.

“They’re scrolls! Scrolls imbued with magic, no less!” he exclaimed. “Whatever these people had to say, they reasoned it important enough to preserve.”

Fai wasted no time as he immediately sat beside the crates and began to read, leaving his companions to their own devices.

A few minutes passed in silence before Syaoran began to fidget, placing all of his weight on one foot, then on the other. Noticing this, the ninja stalked over to his apprentice.

“Hey, kid, this is a big open space. Now would be a good time to practice your form.”

Syaoran looked up at him and blinked. Once. Twice.

“You want to spar?” he asked incredulously. “In a room filled with _skeletons_?”

“Well, they are where they are, and you’d better not step on any or you might be cursed for your disrespect,” Kurogane replied with a smirk, knowing that this was just the distraction the boy needed.

“Go on, Syaoran!” Mokona agreed, jumping from Syaoran’s cloak to sit beside Fai. “Mokona will stay here and keep Fai company!”

Syaoran smiled at the tiny being, then gave himself a moment to take in his surroundings. Barely a minute later, he looked up at his mentor with determination.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

…

If Fai heard the clash of swords from his companions, he made no show of it, engrossed as he was in the scrolls. They were all relatively short—perhaps paper was hard to come by in this world—so he was constantly reading several at a time to try to place them in order as best as he could, just as he had done previously with Syaoran’s notes.

He couldn’t recall when the light of day had faded to a deep violet. He couldn’t recall when his head had started hurting, or when his hands had gone clammy and shaky, the scrolls trembling between his fingers. He couldn’t recall when his breathing had quickened or when Mokona had called Kurogane and Syaoran over worriedly.

No, the first thing he remembered was Kurogane shaking him, asking if he was all right. He heard his lover ask Syaoran for some water, then felt it trickling down his face as a wet cloth was pressed to his forehead.

“Mage… Mage! Snap the hell out of it!”

Fai gasped and started upright, breathing heavily as if he had just come up from underwater.

“There you are,” the ninja sighed in relief, along with Syaoran and Mokona. “What happened? All of the sudden you went white as a sheet.”

“Was it something to do with what’s written on the scrolls?” Syaoran inquired.

“I- yes,” Fai stammered, releasing the scroll he was currently holding from his white-knuckled grip. “The scrolls, they… they’re the final words of this people—a very hastily written warning.”

“Warning?” the larger man asked.

“Yes… These scrolls were written by these people all around us,” Fai replied, motioning to the lifeless occupants of the room. “And they were written moments before they died.”

His companions said nothing, but looked on in uneasy confusion as they settled in front of Fai.

“It would seem as if the enormous, civilization-sized tomb was nearing its completion when,” Fai paused for a moment to swallow, “when they dug into something that they shouldn’t have. And, in turn, _awakened_ something they shouldn’t have.”

“Wait, you’re saying that there was something living in the stone they were carving into?” Syaoran questioned, his thoughts going every which way with improbability.

“Yes, something very old- very ancient. Something far older than even this civilization itself. Their ancestors called it… it’s a bit difficult to read, but… something akin to ‘The Beyond’? Apparently it had once been a god of some sort. As time passed, however, its existence was questioned until eventually it was dismissed altogether as a myth. No one thought anything of the legend until it became real.

“There isn’t much to these scrolls, but the last few sentences are quite… disconcerting.

‘We lost the High Priest in the Chapel, when he stayed behind to fend off the creature using power from the sigil. The rest of us have made it to Great Hall. We will flee this grave we built for ourselves and instead make it the grave of this thing which should not be. We will make it—we must make it! If we are to die it will be on our own terms.

The Arch-Mage holds the Crimson Stone.’

“I’ve found no mention of this ‘Crimson Stone’ in any of the other scrolls, so I believe that to be the last paragraph they wrote before they hastily applied a preservation spell. It would seem they were preparing to carry these crates out with them to freedom. But…”

“They never made it out,” Syaoran finished solemnly, his eyes suddenly finding the floor to be very interesting.

“So that guy in the ‘Chapel’ was the only one that died outside of this room?” Kurogane mused. “And he drew power from a sigil stone.”

“Yes,” Fai responded. “We undoubtedly spent last night in the ‘Chapel.’ That was why the sigil stone was so weak. It was only partly due to age, and mainly due to the amount of power that had been stripped from it.”

Kurogane was silent for a moment, and Syaoran and Mokona made no attempts to strike up conversation. There was something weighing heavily on their minds, but no one wanted to voice their troubled thoughts. Suddenly, the ninja recalled something.

“Hey, that sigil stone in the chapel was red, right?”

Fai nodded.

“So, then, what if that’s this ‘Crimson Stone’? What if it’s just another sigil stone- a more powerful one? Maybe even one with enough power to seal a giant set of doors…”

Fai pondered for a moment. “It would take such an immense amount of magical power. I couldn’t even fathom wielding such an object. But, it is possible...”

“And it is pretty warm in this room…” Syaoran noted.

All at once, the group was on their feet, searching everywhere around the chamber.

“If we have that stone,” Syaoran started, desperately going through another crate with the use of the flashlight, “we could be able to find a way out of here before-”

He cut himself off, not wanting to say what had been on everyone’s mind since Fai had first deciphered the scrolls…

The fact that they weren’t alone there after all.

A few minutes of searching commenced before Kurogane let out a frustrated noise.

“I don’t get it! If it killed all of them so easily, why didn’t it kill us when it had the chance last night? Or when Syaoran was distracted earlier today? Judging from the fact that none of us seem to even be able to sense its existence, it could easily have done us all in by now!”

“Kurogane,” Fai chastised softly, yet authoritatively. “There’s no need to be so pessimistic. There must have been a reason. We still haven’t found the stone or the ‘Arch-Mage,’ so let’s try to keep our hopes up. Everything may not be as it seems.”

With that, the search continued. Syaoran went through every container in the room as quickly as his careful archeologist senses would allow, while Kurogane stood close to where they had entered the chamber, Ginryuu at the ready. After a few more minutes, Fai leaned against a nearby wall with weariness, panting as the heat of the room mixed with the heat of his returning fever.

“What’s that thing the witch-san always used to say? The one Watanuki-kun has taken a liking to? ‘There’s no such thing as coincidence’?”

“’Only that which is fated to be’,” Syaoran finished.

“You’re saying we were fated to be here—in a stone prison surrounded by a bunch of dead bodies with a murderous slaughter-god?” Kurogane drawled, eyeing his companions and their apparent loss of sanity.

Sighing when he didn’t receive a response, the ninja took a moment to survey the room once more. He was in the midst of scanning the ceiling for any loose stone that could fall and cause injury when his eyes widened.

“There’s a balcony!”

Fai and Syaoran glanced at the ninja, then upwards. In the dim glow of night, they could just barely make out the outline of a platform above them. Upon pointing the flashlight at it, it was indeed revealed to be a very well-hidden balcony. Before it was illuminated via the flashlight, however, Fai had seen something he wanted to confirm.

“Syaoran, turn the flashlight off for a second!”

The boy complied, and as soon as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they could all see what Fai was looking for. Something on the balcony was emitting a faint red glow.

“That has to be it!”

“But where are the stairs?”

“I think… Could they have been there?” Syaoran asked, turning the flashlight on once more and pointing it at a pile of rubble in the far corner of the room. “I thought it was just a collapsed section of the wall when I first saw it, but now that I look closer, it looks like it may have been a staircase.”

“Damn,” Kurogane muttered. “There must be another way…”

“That’s the spirit, Kurgy,” Fai cheered tiredly. “Now that you’re feeling a bit more optimistic, I hope you won’t mind that I do this.”

Before the ninja even had the chance to protest, Fai was letting out a quiet whistle which engulfed them all in a circle of magic and lifted them from the ground. Within a few moments, they were all atop the balcony, and all who were not mages were wondering what on earth had just happened.

Fai fell to his knees and coughed faintly. Kurogane, who was both upset and concerned at the realization that his ill lover had just used magic again, merely sighed in resignation and knelt down beside the mage to offer his support.

“I’m not even going to ask, mage. Magic is magic, and that spell was very useful. I just wish you didn’t have to use it like this,” he stated, placing an arm on his lover’s shoulder.

Fai smiled weakly at him, placing his hand atop the ninja’s, before Mokona reminded them exactly what had brought them to the balcony in the first place.

“It’s so pretty…” they cooed as they stared at a luminescent red stone laying a few feet away.

It was smaller than the other stone, as if it were meant to be held in someone’s hand, and a much deeper, blood-red color. It sat atop a thin, crooked stand towards the back of the balcony.

“The ‘Crimson Stone’,” Syaoran breathed. “It’s magnificent to look at. I’ve never seen such a gem…”

“I can hardly believe it, but with what I’m sensing now, being so close to it,” Fai began, stumbling across his words in astonishment, “it’s made entirely of magic!”

Syaoran stared at the mage. “Is that possible?”

“It shouldn’t be, but I can’t think of any other plausible explanation for the aura emanating from that stone.”

“What would they do with an all-powerful stone made of magic?” Kurogane asked.

“No all-powerful, just _very_ powerful. I can’t even imagine how it was formed…”

Fai shook his head, lightly slapping his face to regain composure as he moved to stand.

“But I can’t think about that now,” he corrected. “Right now we have bigger things to worry about. We have to get out of here, and that stone is our best bet. I’m going to see if I can use it.”

The mage cautiously approached the stand that held the stone, and Syaoran turned the flashlight in his direction to better light the way. All at once, Fai halted in his steps and Syaoran froze completely.

The jagged stand was, in fact, not a stand at all. What held the glowing stone in place was the grasp of a long, outstretched skeletal arm and hand, which were, in turn, connected to a large skeleton. Any semblance of clothing had long withered away, but scattered around the body were numerous amulets, rings, and precious stones.

“This must have been the Arch-Mage,” Syaoran commented once the initial astonishment had dissipated.

“He’s certainly decorated enough to be a king,” Kurogane added, moving closer to the object of the conversation. He stared long and hard at the many embellishments strewn about, surprised and slightly shocked to note that they reminded him of his own master. Quickly shaking the thought from his mind that Princess Tomoyo would ever end up in such a situation as this, he focused on the mage once more.

“What are you thinking about over there?” he asked, since the slighter man had yet to continue closer to the stone.

“I’m just… taking all of this in,” the blonde replied. “This person seems to have been very powerful, to have been held in such high regard.”

Syaoran looked at the stone, then behind him at where it was angled towards.

“Fai, look,” the boy called. “If you take into account that the Arch-Mage was standing before he died, that stone would have been pointing directly towards the doors.”

“Yes, so it would seem,” Fai responded, finally resuming his path to the magical object. “You were right, Kuro-sama. I believe this stone did seal those doors. It’s certainly emanating enough power to have been able to do so.”

Kurogane hurriedly grabbed the mage’s hand before he could take the stone.

“Then you probably shouldn’t touch it,” he stated. “There’s no way of knowing what it will do.”

“I know, Kuro-sama,” Fai said with a small smile, “But we don’t have many other options now, do we?”

“There is one other option,” Syaoran corrected, stepping up beside the other two with Mokona on his shoulder. “We could all take it—all at once. We each hold a great deal of power ourselves, so maybe together we can handle it. There’s strength in numbers, right?”

Kurogane and Fai blinked incredulously at their younger companion, and then Fai started to laugh. Kurogane merely smiled and ruffled his apprentice’s hair.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call myself very strong right now, in this moment,” Fai giggled, a few coughs escaping in between, “so I say the more the merrier. Let’s do it!”

Fai placed his right hand out in front of him, hovering over the stone, and Syaoran was quick to add his own on top.

“Whatever,” Kurogane sighed with a small chuckle, placing a hand above his companions’. “Something, something, team spirit.”

“Something, something, team spirit!” Mokona repeated happily as they landed on top of the pile of hands.

With that, they all reached down to careful pluck the stone from the skeletal fingers curled around it…

…and the world went red.


	4. Act III

The next thing Fai, Kurogane, Syaoran, and Mokona heard was yelling. Shouting—coming from everywhere. Their surroundings were much brighter, as if were daytime once more, and they were no longer on the balcony. Instead, they were in the middle of the vestibule they had recently been searching, and all of the broken down crates and containers were whole once more.

What’s more, they were surrounded by large humanoid creatures, shaped exactly as their skeleton counterparts had suggested. They appeared to be slightly over ten feet tall, their gray wrinkled skin stretched across their elongated faces, and their yellow eyes bright and piercing, dripping with authoritarian control. They wore headdresses and long, dark robes with swirling designs similar to some of those that Syaoran had taken rubbings of, and suddenly the entire group somehow knew that the designs were meant to signify status depending on their level of complexity.

The ancient beings spoke a strange, guttural language that none of the four travelers had ever heard before, including Mokona, but for some reason they could all understand what was being said.

“Where is the creature?”

“Does the High Priest have it contained?”

“Write everything down! All of it! Leave nothing out! We must warn others who may approach this place!”

“You there! Help me with these crates!”

“Where is the Arch-Mage?”

“There is no time! Open the doors! We must flee quickly!”

“ ** _NO._** ”

A booming voice echoed across the Great Hall, and the beings looked upwards at the balcony. The thoroughly confused travelers did, as well. There stood a being slightly larger than the rest, covered in decorative jewelry with robes boasting incredibly intricate designs. Their voice offered no choice of disagreement.

“ ** _The High Priest is lost to us. The creature comes swiftly. The doors must remain closed._** ”

“No!”

“Arch-Mage!”

“ ** _Quiet. Over hundreds of years we have built this place: our sanctuary, our tomb. Now, let it be as we have foreseen._** ”

With that, a bright red light burst from the balcony, encasing the great doors in magical script. The people cried out in horror, banging on the doors and pulling on their handles, but they would not open. Some pleaded with their leader to let them die on their own terms; others simply let go and accepted their fate, knowing that what the Arch-Mage was doing was right. There was no way of knowing for certain there were no other civilizations beyond those doors of which they were not aware.

Should the creature escape, they would be damning the outside world.

The four travelers held the Crimson Stone in a death-like vice, huddled in a protective circle around each other as they watched what seemed to be the events of the past unfold around them.

They watched as the Arch-Mage continued to enchant the only means of escape.

They watched as many people attempted to open the doors, scrambling over each other to no avail.

They watched as some even took their own lives, tucked away in corners where they were harder to see, unwilling to let their stories end at the hands of an evil they knew was nearly upon them.

Syaoran pulled his cloak open to allow Mokona inside, but the tiny being silently refused, standing their ground in the face of the vision.

Fai leaned against Kurogane, who offered support with his free arm—the artificial one—by wrapping it around the mage’s shoulder. The ninja’s face was grim, and Fai’s was painted with sorrow for this people who, for hundreds of years, had never truly been able to live.

Everyone’s thoughts were interrupted, however, by a sound that can only be described as inhuman. It was a long, drawn out, visceral _shriek_ , unlike anything the four had ever experienced. It made even Kurogane’s hair stand on end in horror, and Syaoran shrunk into Fai’s side, the mage’s arm coming around to support the boy just as Kurogane’s was for him.

The other-worldly people were screaming in terror. By now, most of them were piled upon the door, which was still glowing from the Arch-Mage’s spell. The Crimson Stone, however, was no longer pointed towards the door. Instead, the Arch-Mage was perched on the edge of the balcony, Crimson Stone held at the ready in front of him.

He was prepared for one final battle.

Another ungodly shriek, and the thing was within the chamber.

‘Chaotic’ could not even begin to describe the scene that played out as the god-like being overpowered every person in that room. Their potent fire spells didn’t even faze it. Its very presence seemed to be powerful enough to drive one mad. The travelers couldn’t even begin to comprehend what it looked like. It didn’t look like _anything_ —its size and form could only be described as that of which nightmares were made.

Within seconds, the room had fallen silent, and not a single living soul remained save the Arch-Mage and the thing of terror. The former was trembling in fear, but stood his ground as he held the Crimson Stone up higher, pleading with any god who could possibly hear him to show mercy and understanding after what he had just done to his people.

With one final whisper of prayer, just as the thing was descending upon the balcony, the Arch-Mage shouted a hasty incantation of a spell.

The creature threw him backwards, and he hit the wall with a choked cry before falling to the floor. Even as his last breath left him, he continued to hold the Crimson Stone as high as he could, willing his final hex to completion.

The last thing the travelers saw before their surroundings faded to black was the image of the dreadful creature splitting in two, with one part of it forced into the Crimson Stone and the other flying off in a fury.

…

Awareness was slow to come back to Kurogane, which is a dangerous thing to a ninja. He could hardly be bothered to care at the moment, however, since every part of him felt both extremely sore and extremely numb all at once. Everything he had just witnessed felt like a dream, or a nightmare, and he found it very difficult to even open his eyes. Feeling around, he could tell that he was on the ground, and his heart nearly stopped when his hand met with a spindly skeletal one.

Gasping, he shot up. A short noise of pain escaped him, but pushed his discomfort aside to desperately search for his companions. He let out a sigh of relief as he noticed two figures covered in light-colored cloaks lying on their sides nearby, and a small white being lying within a few feet. The skeletal hand he had felt had simply been that of the Arch-Mage. His relief was short-lived, however, when he noticed a fourth figure floating a bit further away.

The group was back in the present—back on the balcony—but they were not alone.

Kurogane would have done anything to have had Syaoran’s flashlight in that moment, but it was too far away. The thing seemed to be staring intently at them, but did not utter a sound. Similar to their previous experiences, if the ninja had not been able to see it, he wouldn’t have even known it was there due to its complete lack of presence. Within seconds, however, the thing made its move, darting towards Fai with a speed unlike anything Kurogane had seen before.

The ninja wasted no time throwing himself over the unconscious mage, who lay closest to him. Gritting his teeth and knowing that this would most likely be where their journey would end, he sent out a silent apology to Sakura for being unable to return Syaoran to her safely, then waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Cautiously, Kurogane lifted his head, only to find the dark being staring straight at him in what appeared to be intense fury.

He couldn’t move a single muscle; the thing’s piercing red eyes were all he could see. Time stretched on forever, but eventually the creature looked downwards, and Kurogane’s eyes followed. That was when he saw what the thing had apparently been trying to get: the Crimson Stone clutched tightly within Fai’s right hand. The thing made one final attempt to take it from the mage’s grasp, but failed and passed straight through both men without Kurogane feeling so much as a _breeze_. With that, it seemed to let out a strange, silent, outraged shriek and flew away, back downwards towards the hall.

Kurogane breathed heavily, collapsing against the mage, but careful enough not to put too much weight on him. For several moments, all he could do was sit there and breathe, wondering what on earth just happened. How could such a terrifying creature, one that had killed the last vestiges of an entire civilization, have been unable to even touch them?

The dark-haired man shook the thought from his head and rolled Fai over so that he was lying on his back.

“Mage, oi, mage!” he whispered as he shook the other man.

He was rewarded with a small moan as the blonde moved his free hand up to grasp his forehead. Seeing that his lover was well on his way to waking, Kurogane moved on to his protégé, rolling him over and giving his face a few taps. The boy, similarly to the mage, grunted in discomfort, no doubt feeling the same effects that Kurogane had upon awakening.

“Sorry, kid, time to wake up.”

He picked Mokona up, surprised to see that the tiny being was already awake and blinking at him confusedly.

“What happened?” they asked in disbelief. “Mokona feels like we were all just in a very bad dream!”

“Not a dream…” Fai breathed, slowly sitting up. “A vision.”

He held up the Crimson Stone to get a better look at it.

“I think- I think we all just shared a vision of the final moments of this people… And I think this stone is what showed it to us.”

“You’re right,” came a voice emanating from close to where Mokona stood.

“Watanuki!”

“Kimihiro?”

A circle of light now hovered in front of Mokona, revealing the face of the current wish-granting owner of the space-time shop.

“Fai-san, I’m glad you were able to recover the stone. Thanks to your magic suppressing its powers, I am able to communicate with you once more.”

“Mokona can do a world transfer now! Mokona can feel it! Mokona can _feel_ it!”

The small white being hopped around in glee, happy to have all of their abilities back.

“That stone… it must have been what was confining Mokona’s magic,” Syaoran realized, glancing at the stone in Fai’s hand.

Fai, too, held it up once more in examination.

“You say my magic is suppressing its own?” he asked the hologram. “How? I feel like I barely have anything left in me right now…”

“That’s exactly the reason why,” the shop-owner replied. “Have you noticed, perhaps, that only you have been able to read the language of this world scrawled on every wall?”

The mage started back, then closed his eyes and gave a knowing smile.

“Of course you knew. You knew the very moment we entered this world, didn’t you? You’ve been waiting for this moment.”

“Very perceptive of you, Wizard of Celes,” Watanuki stated, smiling back. “Indeed, I have. After all, it was fate that brought you here.”

“But this place is so frightening! Mokona never wants to even think about it again!” Mokona yelled, shaking their head wildly.

“I know, and I’m sorry for what you’ve all undoubtedly had to endure, but this—the four of you finding that stone—was destined.”

“Perhaps you can cut to the chase and tell us exactly what it is, then?” the ninja asked gruffly.

The shop-owner was not put-off by his boldness. Getting straight to the point was, of course, the Japanese man’s specialty, and so he could only indulge him.

“It is a memory stone.”

“Wait, like one of Princess Sakura’s feathers?” Syaoran asked, moving closer to the projected image.

“Yes, and no,” Watanuki replied. “It is similar, but unlike the Princess’s feathers, it has the ability to hold more than just one memory. Stored within the confines of that stone are the thoughts and memories of this entire civilization since its beginning.”

Syaoran, Fai, and Kurogane stared in shock at the shop-owner, with the youngest being the first to break the stillness.

“The _entire_ civilization? How is that even-”

“Of course…” Fai stated in realization. “That’s how we were able to suddenly understand their language and customs in that vision we just shared. The stone began with the magic of a single memory, and then it grew. For hundreds and hundreds of years it grew with each new memory being added. A stone formed entirely of magic!”

Watanuki nodded his head ever so slightly. “No doubt you felt its magic as soon as you neared it. But perhaps you wouldn’t believe me if I told you that you’d actually sensed it far before that—when you’d first arrived, in fact?”

“What?” Fai asked. “That doesn’t… All I could sense was that this world was dead…”

“But there was still something off, despite that. Something didn’t feel right to you, did it?”

“He’s right,” the ninja interrupted. “You did say something like that last night. You don’t remember?”

“I believe I was quite ill, Kuro-sama,” Fai berated playfully. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t quite recall my feverish ramblings.”

“And how about if your feverish thoughts, in their weakness, unconsciously clung to something they found to be familiar and strengthening to them as soon as you landed in this world?” Watanuki continued. “Something imbued with a great deal of magic? Something like…”

“The Crimson Stone,” Syaoran finished, finally realizing what the shop-owner was getting at.

“That would explain how you alone were able to understand their runes and writings,” Kurogane supplied, “being that you had all of their memories at your disposal.”

“Well, it certainly would have been nice if they’d warned me about the bloodthirsty monster, then, wouldn’t it?” Fai laughed, swaying slightly. He dropped to his knees, dizziness from the combined efforts of the fever and overexertion hitting him at full force. Kurogane instantly moved to support him, but the mage held up a hand, signaling his need to simply rest a moment.

“Speaking of which…” Syaoran hesitated, taking a moment to warily survey their surroundings.

“It was here,” Kurogane stated, causing the boy to whip his head around to face him. “Before the two of you woke up from that… memory.”

Fai stared at his lover in horror. “What did you do? We all saw what that thing was capable of—what it did to these people!”

“I know,” he reassured, “but for some reason, it couldn’t even touch us. It was furious—anyone could tell that—but it just passed straight through us.”

“Was it trying to get anything in particular?”

The travelers jumped, having momentarily forgotten the young shop-owner’s presence.

“Yes,” the ninja replied. “I think it wanted the stone.”

Watanuki sighed. “I’m sure it does. The stone is what holds the memory of its physical form, after all.”

To say that Syaoran was floored would have been a very thorough understatement.

“Its physical form? The form it uses in the _physical_ world? The stone is containing it?”

It was almost comical how Syaoran moved this way and that to study the stone cradled within Fai’s palm.

“Indeed,” Watanuki answered. “When you all touched the stone, its most recent memory was so strongly etched into it that when it became physically entangled with Fai’s temporarily unreserved magic, you had no choice but to watch the events play out, horrendous as they must have been.

“I, myself, only know what was passed down though some of Yuuko-san’s records from prior world-travelers; but from what I have been able to understand, the Wizard of this world used the very last of his power to instill two final memories into the stone: the memory of the doors being able to open, and the memory of the terrible creature’s physical form.”

“But why did he use _both_ spells?” Mokona inquired. “Wouldn’t only one have been enough?”

Fai sagged slightly lower to the ground. “He wasn’t sure which one would save the rest of this world from the creature.”

A fleeting silence fell over the group as they pondered his words.

“That’s dedication,” Kurogane sighed in approval. “If you don’t know what will work, you have to explore all options.”

“But at what cost?” Syaoran interjected respectfully. “His decision led to the deaths of all that remained of his people…”

“I’m not saying that I approve of his methods,” Fai stated, trying his best not the see the

face of King Ashura in the Arch-Mage’s place, “but I will say that these people knew they didn’t have much time left.”

Fai stood slowly and walked towards the edge of the balcony, solemnly overlooking what lay below.

“Look around this room. How many were here? Twenty? Maybe thirty? Perhaps the Arch-Mage simply knew.”

“That’s… horrible to think about,” Syaoran stated. It wasn’t a reprimand of Fai’s explanation, but rather a reprimand that the explanation had to exist at all.

“Regardless, I have no desire to delve into the thoughts of the Arch-Mage any further,” Fai stated, coming out of the dark thoughts from which he had fallen, “and I believe I know exactly why fate brought us here.”

He walked back towards the others, holding the Crimson Stone in front of Watanuki’s projection.

“This belongs somewhere where it can never fall into the wrong hands, doesn’t it?” he asked, though it was less of a question than a statement. “Any powerful mage could bring out the memories in this stone, and we’re all extremely lucky that my illness did not prove dangerous enough to unlock anything more. Kimihiro-kun, I have a wish!”

Watanuki smiled and held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary, Fai-san. I was planning to lock away the stone to begin with. Yuuko-san waited a very long time for someone to retrieve this perilous object, and now I can at last finish what she started.”

Mokona opened their mouth wide and sucked the stone inside. Within seconds, it appeared on the other side of the hologram, held neatly within a silk cloth in the shop-owner’s hands.

“In fact,” Watanuki continued, “I actually owe the four of you a wish for this payment you’ve provided.”

“Let’s go somewhere _warm_!” Mokona cried immediately.

“I second the notion,” the ninja agreed.

Fai laughed and airy laugh and turned towards Syaoran.

“Well then, shall this be our wish?” he asked with a smirk.

Syaoran grinned sheepishly. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind stopping by to see Princess Sakura…”

“And _you_ need someplace where you can properly rest and get rid of this fever once and for all,” Kurogane chided as he placed a hand on Fai’s forehead.

The mage laughed once more, removing the larger man’s hand and entwining their fingers. “Then it’s settled. We all wish to go to the Kingdom of Clow!”

“That is within my limits,” Watanuki began, “but I’m afraid it’s not enough for the payment given. You could easily travel to the Kingdom of Clow anytime you choose, within reason. Perhaps there is another wish I could grant in addition?”

The group thought for a moment, then Mokona let out a squeal. Glancing in the direction the small being was facing, the three other travelers shrank back at the sight of the thing they had seen in the vision—the horrifyingly distorted, indiscernible entity—

“Begone, spirit,” Watanuki bellowed. “You can do nothing here. Everyone turn away.”

Without even realizing it, the group did as they were told, moving so that their backs were facing the entity. Kurogane was loath to turn his back on an enemy—without seeing it, how could he tell where it was since he couldn’t _sense_ it—but he remained as he was, back turned and arms unconsciously moving to ensure that Fai and Syaoran were both within reach.

It seemed as if an eternity passed, and in truth there was no telling just how much time had gone by, but the soft light of dawn had slowly started to make itself known in the Great Hall by the time the shop-owner spoke once more.

“It’s gone.”

All four travelers visibly relaxed. Even Watanuki seemed to loosen from the previously stiff and commanding posture he had taken while addressing the creature. The only sounds that could be heard were labored breaths as everyone tried to regain their composure, flashes of the memory they had all shared darting relentlessly through everyone’s thoughts.

“Can we leave now?” Mokona asked with a sniffle. “Mokona wants to go…”

“I agree,” the youngest responded, lifting the small being into his arms reassuringly. “Syaoran wants to go, as well.”

“Then you shall be off. Simply let me know when you’ve decided what your wish will be-”

“I know what we would like to wish!” the mage stated, his voice ringing with determination.

“Fai-san?”

“Kimihiro-kun… This place—this world—please ensure that nothing and no one will ever be able to enter or leave it once we’re gone.”

“Fai-san!”

“There could still be people in this world!”

“And that’s fine!” Fai reasoned. “They will be perfectly fine since these doors will _never_ open. They are sealed with a spell that only the strongest of mages would take years to break.”

The wizard turned to look at his companions.

“And if we seal this world off, we can ensure that the strongest of mages will never even get the chance to try. The entity trapped within these walls may not be able to physically hurt anyone, but it is _far_ from harmless. Kimhiro-kun may become the guardian the stone, but it is fate itself that will become the guardian of this world, with no one else to intervene.”

Kurogane moved towards Fai, placing two heavy hands on his shoulders.

“And what gives you the right to make that decision for this world?”

Syaoran looked on concernedly, torn between both sides of the equation, as Fai brought both of his hands up to meet Kurogane’s.

“Absolutely nothing.”

Determined blue eyes met with red ones shining in trepidation, and minutes passed as mage and ninja searched each other’s souls, never breaking eye contact but to blink. At last, Kurogane sighed wearily.

“Kid, what’s your take on the situation?” he asked, turning to face his apprentice. “I’m fine with whatever you decide; this is your journey.”

Syaoran was hesitant, weighing the good and bad of both choices. If they closed the world off, who’s to say they won’t be damning it if the creature does somehow manage to break free of the tomb? But if they left the world open, who’s to say that the creature won’t somehow find a way to escape it entirely and force its unholy desolation on another society?

He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing before finally coming to a conclusion.

“Kimihiro,” he began, opening his eyes to stare directly at the shop-owner. “Please close this world off from everything and everyone except for yourself. Knowing you, you will only ever access this world if it is absolutely required. I entrust it to your hands.”

Fai and Kurogane started back in astonishment, but Watanuki merely regarded the travelers with a quiet, knowing smile.

“Normally, this would be impossible to accomplish. You have seen some exceptions, but in most circumstances one can either close a world entirely or they cannot close it at all. With this stone and the memories permeating it, however, I believe I will still be able to access this world even once it has been closed off. Syaoran, Fai, Kurogane, I will grant your wish.”

Watanuki had barely uttered the final sentence before Mokona’s mouth was opening wide and the travelers felt themselves begin transferring to another world. Before Fai could be content that their time in this dead world was finished and he could finally rest, he turned to face Watanuki’s image once more.

“Kimihiro-kun, please, I have to know. This thing- this… god-like being that has existed for who knows how long, destroyed an entire civilization, chilled every one of us down to our very _bones_ in fear—what is it?”

Watanuki momentarily looked away from the mage as he covered the stone within the silk cloth, which Fai now noticed had several magical binding runes written on it, and tied around that cloth a string enchanted with a particularly strong sealing spell. He then placed the stone inside a small, unassuming chest covered with runes Fai had never even seen before in all of his years and placed it on a nearby shelf.

Upon leaving his storeroom and securely locking it behind him, the shop-owner turned back to face Fai with a grave and somewhat uneasy expression as his image began to fade away.

“I don’t know.”


End file.
